The Kaye Hole – Edinburgh Festival Fringe – Assembly Checkpoint

The Kaye Hole continues at Assembly Checkpoint, Edinburgh – until 25 August 2019.

Star rating: five stars ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Reuben Kaye is everything your mother ever warned you about, and now he’s brought the rest of the gang along to corrupt you. Along with his house band, ‘The Preferred Pronouns’, he’s ready to shake the foundations of this old church and claim it in the name of cabaret. Be in no doubt, weary Fringe-ers, this is Kaye’s house, and we are all welcome (to bow at his feet).

Blazing onstage with cheekbones of steel and a fiendish grin, he takes no prisoners in his repartee, his hypnotic charisma walking that miraculous line between encouragement and torture, between good cop and demon. We’re treated to an uproarious and switched-on opening monologue, some riotous numbers punctuated by the crack of his ponytail whip, and then it’s time for the guests.

First, Beau Sargent, delivering a fierce sensuality within the grotesque; then Rhys Nicholson (the speed of his delivery might lull you into passive amusement until he catapults a comedic curveball from afar – you never see it coming, and it is marvellous).

An appearance from David Pereira brings the house down – what begins as an act of alarming exposure culminates in a feat (pardon the pun) of dexterity and flexibility which is quite jaw dropping.

Next, Bonnie Tyler ain’t got nothin on this girl – Michelle Brasier delivers blow after blow of ruthless comic energy, wrapped up in a spectacular vocal.

If anyone is in any doubt as to whether we can possibly take any more incredulity, Heather Holliday is here to push the boundaries of sword swallowing past the point of logical belief – Star Wars fans might want to prepare themselves.

These guests are only today’s Kaye Hole delights – another evening may bring other untold joys, but you can be sure that whatever mood you may have arrived in – you’re not leaving without a grin.

Kaye ties it all together with a final gut punch to the tune of ‘Amsterdam’. Never has such Weill-esque devilry been so deliciously served. Do not miss it.

Aura Simon